Vital Warmth
by y-ye
Summary: Some days words and volleyball alone aren't enough to pull Bokuto out of his disheartened state. Akaashi, in an attempt to gauge how close he can get to his Ace, finds a new remedy. "This warmth is my life, Bokuto-san. Doesn't it feel good to lie against it?"


Akaashi's narrowed eyes glance over at the only other teammate in the room, sighing silently through his nose. Bokuto had slipped into this funk towards the very end of the match and left no time to cheer him up with a good spike. To make it worse, it was their turn to finish cleaning up, so they ended up staying later than anyone else, trusted to lock up. Bokuto had sunken to the floor in front of his locker, forehead pressed to the cold metal.

"Bokuto-san..." He trailed off, unsure of how to continue even as Bokuto's head lifted slightly.

"Akaashi?" Yellow eyes met his own, and he swallowed harshly. There was something cute about a pouting Bokuto, and god, how he wished he hadn't noticed. He's been trying to power through this stupid crush for the better part of his first year, and was still going strong in his second year.

"Could you come over here, Bokuto-san?" What. What?

"Sure..." Bokuto mumbled, doing some sort of awkward shuffle-waddle thing until he was in front of Akaashi but still crouched down. Their eyes met again and Akaashi's mouth went dry. He reached forward with his left hand, unsure of what he was going to do as he started. Bokuto's hair was still damp from the shower and soft without the usual gel. Hand gripping the back of Bokuto's head, he slowly pulled him forward and his face was resting against Akaashi's stomach. "A-Akaashi?"

"Shh." He went silent, and Akaashi carefully catalogued this moment in his brain. Some hysterical part of him chattered about how he'd never have Bokuto this close to him ever again, and wasn't that sad? Carding his fingers through silver and black strands, he ignored it. He was savoured the illusion of trust has he counted their breaths as their lungs synced. This was enough. It would have to be. Minutes ticked past before Bokuto finally spoke up again, a new record.

"Why are we doing this, Akaashi?" Bokuto's voice was oddly soft as he asked that. When Akaashi took more than a second to speak, he looped an arm around his waist and looked up when Akaashi's abs tightened up.

"Because you're sulking, Bokuto-san." Bokuto whined at that, but didn't deny it. "And the stomach is my softest vital point. There's something to be said about resting on someone's vitals. The warmth makes things a little better." Bokuto nodded slowly at that.

"But why?" Akaashi shrugged before contemplating it through Bokuto's patient silence.

"This warmth is my life, Bokuto-san. Doesn't it feel good to lie against it? To have my trust that you won't take it away?" He detachedly noticed Bokuto's shoulders tensed, and that if this was a Ghibli movie, his hair would probably be rising in an unseen breeze.

"You shouldn't trust me like that," Bokuto told his abs, and he shivered at how he could feel those chapped lips through his shirt. "I can't even spike past our blockers properly. I'm not serious enough."

"You're plenty serious." Sometimes Bokuto needed you to be blatantly serious about your praise or he'd accidentally twist your words. "And it's my choice. Besides, doesn't it feel good?" He gently repeated, waiting for an answer.

"...Yes," Bokuto breathed into his stomach, and Akaashi tried not to laugh at how it tickled.

"Then stay for a bit. We can head back home later, and tomorrow you'll score for us."

Akaashi could have sworn he heard "For you." but it was too quiet to be sure. He smiled sadly because he knew Bokuto wouldn't see with his nose tucked into his stomach, and started running his hand back through Bokuto's hair.

Stomach cuddling sort of became their thing. Bokuto didn't do very well in practice and was ordered to rest? He'd drag Akaashi with him to the nurses office or the side of the gym, make Akaashi sit down with his legs splayed open, and would loop his arms around his middle before pressing his cold nose into the warm belly presented to him. Bokuto did really well on a test? Same thing. Bokuto did an awesome spike? Same thing. And he didn't seem to care that people were watching, and he didn't seem to notice Akaashi's pale skin turn pink all over.

Fukurodani had been doing well lately, so Komi had decided a party was in order. Akaashi had been dragged along more than anything, but he'd still come at Bokuto's wheedling. It wouldn't do to have their Ace in a foul mood at a party celebrating how awesome the team had been lately.

Except... Except the only thing he'd done so far was take over the couch, drag Akaashi onto the couch, and reposition him until he could rest on his stomach comfortably. Onaga was snickering at him. Snickering! His only kouhai on the team!

Still, Akaashi did nothing but quietly sigh and pulled a book- Harry Potter and the Prisioner of Azkaban in the original English for no good reason except it felt more real that way- out of his bag and settled in.

"It's like a puppy and his owner," Akaashi's eyebrow twitched when he realized it was Sarukui who said that. Oh no. "With Bokuto sprawled over him like that. Akaashi's one indulgent owner, huh?"

"Sarukui-san," Akaashi said sharply as his eyes drifted over to the cat mouthed boy, "So kind of you to offer to get me a pepsi. You should probably get everyone else drinks too..." Sarukui gave him a lazy salute before wandering off.

"You want a drink Akaashi? I can do get it for y-" Bokuto raised his head with bright eyes, but Akaashi practically slammed the spine of his book into his forehead. He clicked his tongue and Bokuto whined to Akaashi's belly about the treatment.

"Please stay still, Bokuto-san. I haven't finished the chapter yet."

"Wait, so who's making who cuddle...? I thought Bokuto was, but..." Akinori questioned in what was probably an attempt at whispering. Akaashi decided to let it go. Kicking up too much of a fuss would mean Bokuto would have to move after all. He treasured Bokuto's warm weight against his stomach for every second he could. Was it selfish to keep Bokuto so close? Bokuto's arms tightened around his waist and the thought was chased out of his mind.

Breath hitching as he felt a rough palm skim down his hip, Akaashi tried to recall between gasping breaths and sloppy kisses how exactly he'd ended up under Bokuto in his bed with his hands greedily running up and down Akaashi's body.

He'd just let Bokuto sleep over because his parents were out of the house and it was getting dark too fast. They wouldn't mind, it was just his senpai staying over after all. They'd wandered in, and Akaashi had explained when Bokuto wondered at the house slippers in their stoop. The thought of Bokuto taking that as an invitation hadn't even crossed his mind, but.

Bokuto had grinned widely at his words and practically dragged Akaashi to his room and flopped down on his bed. Akaashi barely winced when the shelf next to his bed (and the lamp on it) wobbled precariously.

"Please be careful, Bokuto-san," he'd muttered mildly as he shrugged his backpack off next to the door. It seemed like he was asking Bokuto to do that almost every day now. He drifted over to his shelves unconsciously to look for a new book. He'd finished the Harry Potter series again, so this time...

Warm arms looped around him again, and he barely paused before he resumed browsing. He was fairly used to timing when Bokuto would want his stomach now. Maybe some Haiku's this time...

"Akaaaaaashi," He dragged out, tugging lightly at him from behind, "Am I that boring?"

"You're never boring, Bokuto-san," Akaashi said automatically, before pausing and turning around to face him. "Did you want to talk today?"

"A little," Here he's almost sheepish, tilting his head to the side and looking to the side. "And maybe something else."

"Something else?" As far as he knew Bokuto had no idea he had a volleyball in his closet, so what would they do, exactly? Sleep? Eat? Wait, no, Bokuto had paid for their ramen on the way back.

"Weeeell... Since we've been, y'know, dating for a few months-" What. "-I though maybe we could do more than cuddle. It's nice but," Oh my god, did Bokuto just lick his lips? "There's plenty else to do now what no one's watching. So?" Bokuto's eyes were pleading, and doing that weird winky-owl thing that were his equivalent of puppy eyes. He would laugh if he wasn't about to cry.

"Are you making fun of me, Bokuto-san?" Akaashi's voice wobbled a little and he closed his eyes. He would not cry. No.

"What? Oh, Akaashi, no! Please don't cry, I'm being serious here!" There was something warm against his cheek, and his breath stuttered out too fast as he started to try and breathe with the lungs he felt past his own ribs. "I would never make fun of you like that! Does this mean we haven't been dating since we started cuddling?" Burying his nose in Bokuto's shoulder, he lets out a wet laugh.

"Usually couples start with kisses," He mumbled, slowly feeling giddiness settle in his stomach. "Or confessions, Bokuto-san."

"We totally had a confession!"

"Of course we did," He sighed, trying to recall what exactly Bokuto would have thought was a confession when he'd been trying so hard to hide his massive crush. "But I've yet to get my kiss, Bokuto-san."

"That's easy," Bokuto said, pulling back and grinning at Akaashi's goofy smile and reddened eyes. Then his eyelids drooped, and their lips met sweetly, and soon enough Akaashi was dragged over to the bed by trying to follow Bokuto's lips. "Could you" smooch "drop the" smeck "-san from" smack "my name?"

"Maybe," Akaashi demured as he was laid out on the mattress and Bokuto's hand wormed it's way up his shirt. "Or maybe I could call you Koutarou," and Bokuto made a strangled noise before tugging his shirt over his head. Akaashi swallowed, months of not-watching Bokuto undress leaving him unprepared for this moment. Aaah...

Bokuto began to tug at the hem of Akaashi's shirt, making him sit up as he dragged it off him impatiently. Akaashi vaguely recalled protesting how they were thrown into a corner before Bokuto growled out a "If you want, Keiji," that sent warmth to the tips of his toes from the pool in his belly. And then there were more kisses, sucking gently on Bokuto's tongue before working his tongue inside and huffing at the lingering pork ramen flavor.

A hand slipped between their chests, dragging a surprised moan from Akaashi as it work it's way up and their hips ground together pleasantly. And here they were, Akaashi letting it all wash over him through stuttered breaths and fluttering heartbeats. The hand dragged itself back down, settling dangerously low between the hollows of his hip bones.

"Mine," Bokuto sighs into his ear, before his hand dips lower.

"Yes," Akaashi breathes back, hips stuttering upwards "And you're mine."

"Yours," Bokuto mumbles distantly, mouthing down the column of his neck.


End file.
